


At the Intersection of Magic and Technology

by sunstarunicorn



Series: It's a Magical Flashpoint [1]
Category: Flashpoint (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7880518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunstarunicorn/pseuds/sunstarunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Take two kids born and raised with magic, add an SRU Sergeant who’s never heard of magic before, mix in a group of Canadian cops who aren’t supposed to know about magic, and stir with a hot call.  One thing’s for sure, the Strategic Response Unit will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set after the Second Wizarding War and does not include any Harry Potter characters. Likewise, while I borrow concepts from Narnia and Merlin, no characters from these series appear. This story is set before “Scorpio” (Flashpoint Pilot).
> 
> Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own _Flashpoint_ , _Harry Potter_ , _Narnia_ , or _Merlin_.

The Auror knocked at the door, his expression bored. His two companions exchanged wide-eyed looks and stared around the hallway; examining everything, from the worn carpet to the chipped and scratched hand railings to the dusty light fixtures above. They huddled closer to the Auror, drawing little more than an annoyed look from the man. The Auror lifted his fist and knocked again, grumbling about Muggles under his breath.

The door cracked open, revealing a tired, stocky figure who gave every impression of having just woken up. “Can I help you?” he asked, polite despite the early hour.

“Mr. Greg Parker,” the Auror inquired, his tone just as bored as his expression.

“Yes.”

“I regret to inform you that your cousins in England died two nights ago.”

Mr. Parker blinked, staring at the Auror for several seconds. He frowned and remarked, “I’m afraid I don’t really know who you’re talking about.”

The Auror ignored the comment and gestured to his two companions. “May I present your new wards: Lancelot and Alanna Calvin.”

The teens looked up at their new guardian, eyes wide. Their new guardian’s brown eyes were equally wide.


	2. Fire at Calvin Manor

_34 hours earlier (10 PM London Time)_

Lance grinned at his sister. “Stop whining, Alanna. Once you get to Hogwarts, you’ll learn lots of magic.”

“But not wandless,” Alanna pouted. Her lip jutted out and her violet eyes filled with tears. Red hair spilled down on her shoulders. She was too young for her frame to have settled, though both it and her face were already showing hints of their mother’s grace.

Her brother laughed and bounced on the bed. He had dark brown hair and rich blue eyes which danced at his sister. His face, though it still had hints of baby fat was narrow, almost slight. Already his frame showed hints of the solidity it would have as an adult. “Dad’s not teaching me much yet, either, sis. He said I’ve got to master _Forbearne_ **(1)** before he teaches me anything else.”

“But you get to practice it,” Alanna muttered.

Lance shook his head, shoulder-length hair flying. “Only if Dad’s around, Alanna. I’m not supposed to practice unless he’s there to make sure I’m not overdoing it.” The teen flushed, remembering the day before when he’d nearly burned his mother’s favorite vase.

Alanna didn’t notice, far too busy pouting. She’d gotten her first wand only days ago and resented being told she had to wait another two years to start learning Old Magic. It was family tradition, her father said. I didn’t learn till I was your brother’s age, he said. “It’s not fair,” she burst out.

“I know,” her brother agreed, to her surprise. “I think it’s harder _because_ I’ve spent the past two years learning Latin based spells and using my wand.” He leaned closer. “Dad won’t let me practice alone because I keep over-doing the spells.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. “Old Magic’s _easier_ than the wanded stuff, sis, really easy. Dad said it was a lot harder, but it’s not. I keep pushing like I would with my wand and it just kinda flares up.”

“Then I should start learning too,” Alanna argued.

“Dad said ‘no’, sis and if you keep asking, he’s not going to change his mind.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“If I can get _Forbearne_ under control, maybe we can ask him together,” Lance suggested. “Even if he says ‘no’ this summer, we can ask next summer.”

Alanna pouted again. “But that’s so long away…”

“Lance, it’s bedtime,” Mom announced, peeking into Alanna’s room. She had a tall, willowy build, long red hair like her daughter, and brown eyes.

“Coming, Mom,” Lance replied, swinging off his sister’s bed. “Night, sis.”

The teen followed his mother as she headed down the hallway to his room. “Mom?” he asked.

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask yet,” Lance protested.

“You didn’t have to,” she replied, giving her son a knowing smile.

The teen sighed.

A shrill noise broke the nightime sounds. Lance jumped, spinning around in an effort to find the source of the sudden sound. Mom gasped, and turned toward the front of the manor. “The wards!”

“The wards?”

“Go to your room, Lance,” Mom ordered as she turned and ran back down the hallway.

“But Mom!”

“Now, Lancelot!”

* * * * *

Victoria Calvin hurried down the stairs into the foyer of the manor, wand already in hand. Her husband looked up from the fireplace, expression grim. He was a few centimeters taller than his wife and had brown hair like his son’s, though his was going gray. He had light blue eyes, and a lanky build.

“Arthur, what is it?”

“The floo’s cut off ‘Toria.”

Victoria gasped. “How?”

“I suspect Lord Potter was right and several of _His_ unmarked supporters survived the purge of the Ministry after the Second War.”

“The children?”

“The wards should hold, unless they bring in Siege-Engine spells, but I’m taking no chances. Mindy!”

Mindy appeared with a _pop_ and bowed. “Master calls for Mindy?”

“Yes, Mindy. The wards are under attack.”

The tiny house-elf twisted her ears and whimpered. Like all of her kind, she stood perhaps one meter high, had long ears, and wore a tea towel with the family crest on it. She looked nothing like the elves of the myriad of fairy tales. Instead of smooth skin and graceful features, her skin was wrinkled and her features marked with the years of service to her family. “Mindy be knowing, Master.”

“Yes, Mindy,” Arthur said kindly. “Go up to the children’s rooms and pack their trunks. Fit as many clothes and family heirlooms as you can into two trunks. Use the children’s school trunks, they have the most space.”

Mindy nodded. “Mindy be doing that, Master.”

Before she could pop out, Arthur added, “Tell the children to join us in the foyer, Mindy.”

Mindy bowed and _popped_ away.

“Arthur, if the wards hold, we’ll have gotten them up for nothing,” Victoria protested with a frown.

“ ‘Toria, I hope you’re right. Then all we would lose is some sleep.” Arthur scowled and examined the ward monitor. “The wards are holding for now.”

Thunder came from outside as spells pounded against the wards. Victoria moved to the windows and looked out. Wizards stood outside the manor’s gates, casting spells. The spells lit up the night and illuminated the skull-like white masks the attackers wore. The wards flared as a deep red spell struck them. The strike heralded another boom that shook the building.

“What’s happening?” Alanna cried as she ran down the stairs, her brother on her heels. Her violet eyes filled with tears when she saw her mother crying. “What’s wrong?”

“Come here, darling.” Victoria knelt and let Alanna run into her arms. The young girl sniffled as her mother hugged her.

Lance went to his father, who enfolded him in his own hug. “The wards are under attack, Alanna,” Arthur informed his daughter. “Aslan willing, they will hold and we will be safe.”

Another boom shook the house. Arthur frowned and looked at his wife. “ ‘Toria, are they using Siege-Engine spells?” The children gasped at the mention of the spells that had nearly brought down the Ministry’s wards during the Grindelwald War **(2)**.

“I saw a deep red spell from the window, Arthur,” Victoria reported, her gaze grim.

“Daddy, the floo,” Alanna said, tugging her mother toward the fireplace.

“It’s been cut off,” their father admitted.

“Dad, what about a Portkey? Or Apparating?” Lance asked.

“Our own wards prevent that, son,” Arthur replied, gaze solemn. “After your Grandparents died, I had the goblins update the manor’s wards. I insisted they not add an override to the new wards since that was how your Grandparents were murdered. With the floo cut off, we have no way to leave the estate.”

Alanna began to cry. “We’re trapped!”

Arthur pulled his son close to his wife and daughter. “Alanna, I promise you, if nothing else, you, your brother, and your mother will survive.”

Victoria frowned, but did not openly disagree with her husband.

* * * * *

Lance leaned against his father’s shoulder, exhausted. The four of them had ended up on the sofas next to the fireplace as the attack wore on. The thunder of spells hitting the wards was a constant now and the ward alarm had all but faded into the background. Mindy had popped in to inform them that the trunks were packed. Arthur had handed her several volumes from the family library and asked her to pack those as well.

Alanna had cried herself out and now slept in their mother’s lap. Lance would have liked to have joined her but their father had insisted on an impromptu practice session. It had taken most of the two hours since the beginning of the attack but Lance had managed to master keeping the fire spell under control, conjuring a small ball of fire above his palm.

“That was excellent work, son,” Dad praised, nudging his son upright.

“Dad…” Lance groaned.

“I know you’re tired, son. I need to check the wards.”

As his father rose, the background shriek of the ward alarm rose and wailed in new alarm. There was a muffled boom from outside the mansion. Dad raced to the window instead of the ward monitor. As he looked out the window, his face went very pale, almost white.

“ ‘Toria.”

The word was soft but firm. Mom looked up and shook Alanna awake. Alanna grumbled as their mother hurried to her husband’s side. Lance stood as well and pulled Alanna upright, ignoring her mutters.

“Mindy!” Dad called, the elf appearing at once. “Take ‘Toria, the kids, and their trunks and get them out!”

Mindy trembled. “Mindy is only being able to take them to forest,” she informed her Master.

“That’s fine.” He turned to Mom, his eyes grim.

“Wait,” Mom looked down at Mindy. “How far within the forest?”

Mindy trembled. “Mindy is not knowing, Mistress. Mindy has never carried so many before.”

“Is it possible we will appear on the grounds?” Mom pressed.

“Mindy does not think so, Mistress, but bad mens may be seeing yous in trees.”

Mom nodded. “And if you only carry the children and their trunks?”

“Mom!” both teens protested at once.

“ ‘Toria!”

“Hush! Mindy?”

Mindy considered. “Mindy can get Young Master and Young Mistress farther into forest, Mistress.”

“ ‘Toria, the children need you,” Dad pointed out.

“Please don’t go, Mommy,” Alanna pleaded.

Mom knelt, gathering both children into her arms. “Mommy loves you, both of you, so very much.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you both. Be safe.” She paused and met their eyes. “But if you cannot be safe, my own, be _magnificent_!”

She released them and their father gathered them up, openly weeping. “Your mother is right, we love you both. And I’m _proud_ of you.” He reached out, wiping the tears from his children’s eyes. “Remember, all things work together for those that love the Lion and keep His commandments **(3)**.” One hand rested on Alanna’s head and the other on Lance’s. “May Aslan bless you and keep you. May Aslan cause His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you. May He bless you with His love and grant you His peace. Shalom.” He rose but added one thing more in Lance’s ear, “Look after your sister.”

Lance nodded to his father, eyes solemn and much older.

* * * * *

Artorius Calvin sucked in a deep breath and traded looks with his wife. “Mindy get them out of here,” he ordered.

The house-elf snapped her fingers and two trunks with the family crest engraved on them appeared between her and the children. She _popped_ to the children, grabbed their hands, bowed to her Masters, and _popped_ out.

Arthur turned to face the front entrance, his wand dropping into his hand. Victoria stepped up beside him. “Together then,” she murmured.

“Let this be the hour when we draw swords together,” he quoted, smiling at her.

“Fell deeds awake,” she replied.

“Now for wrath.”

“Now for ruin.”

“And the red dawn,” they finished together, twirling their wands up and to the ready.

When the doors fell inward, they cast together, sending their killers flying back out the shattered doors as the battle began.

* * * * *

Two teens clung to each other as the only home they had ever known burned to the ground. From the safety of the forest they had watched as the Death Eaters advanced into the building, were thrown back, and had countered; forcing their way into the grand, stately home. Fire and smoke rose around the house, licking greedily at the roof and the nearby garden.

Mindy tugged at her charges, pulling them away as the roof caved in with a thunderous _crash_. The house-elf’s magic lifted the trunks into the air as the three figures made their way deeper into the estate’s woods. The house-elf looked over her shoulder at the distant manor.

The Dark Mark rose above the fire, mocking her.

 * * * * *

[1] Old English for ‘burn’

[2] Known as World War II by non-magicals

[3] Altered version of Romans 8:28


	3. First Meeting

Greg Parker groaned as a distant knocking penetrated his awareness. He peered at the bedside clock and moaned. 3:00 AM blinked back at him. The knocking started up again and the SRU Sergeant forced himself out from under his covers. A set of sweats that hadn’t quite made it into his laundry basket the night before were pulled on and, still yawning, Greg made his way toward the door, muttering under his breath about being woken before the crack of dawn.

He was a stocky, balding man with brown eyes. What was left of his hair was a mixture of brown and gray. Although one of the shorter members of his team, he was of average height and had a rounded jaw, laugh lines, and a gentle demeanor.

He paused at the door to don his negotiator mask and tone, then pulled the door open before the man outside could knock again. The stranger was, oddly enough, dressed in what looked like medieval style robes. They looked neat, well kept, and official; that is, if you were from the 14th century. All but pressed against the stranger were two teens, in equally old looking clothing.

“Can I help you?” Greg asked, long practice as a negotiator keeping him from reacting to the outlandish picture the three painted.

“Mr. Greg Parker?” the stranger asked, utterly bored.

“Yes,” Greg confirmed, some dread filtering in. Robes notwithstanding, this was starting to sound like an official notification of some sort.

The stranger did not disappoint. “I regret to inform you that your cousins in England died two nights ago.”

Greg blinked, caught off guard. _Cousins in England? I don’t have any cousins in England._ He frowned and replied, “I’m afraid I don’t really know who you’re talking about.”

The stranger ignored his comment and gestured to the two teens. “May I present your new wards: Lancelot and Alanna Calvin.”

The teens looked up at Greg, eyes wide. Greg’s eyes had gone equally wide. Once again, Greg’s negotiating experience came to his aid and he stepped aside and pulled the door open. “Come in, please,” he managed, stuffing his bewilderment down for the moment.

The teens stayed behind the official, their eyes darting everywhere as Greg led the way and turned the lights on. Once in his small living room, he gestured to the couch and made a quick detour to the tiny kitchen to turn the coffeemaker on. He paused at the ‘fridge, considering. If the teens had only lost their parents a few nights ago… He pulled the door open and snagged two cans of soda for the teens.

“I’m afraid I only just started the coffeemaker,” he started, coming back into the living room. “Would you care for soda, Mr. …?”

“No thank you, Mr. Parker,” the stranger replied. “I’m not staying long.”

Greg frowned at the man and offered the teens the sodas. They took the cans and stared at them, mystified. It took Greg a few seconds to realize the teens didn’t have the faintest idea of how to open the cans. _Where on Earth have they been living?_ He gestured for the can the red-maned girl held and demonstrated how to pop the tab open. Her brown-haired brother caught on and popped his own can open as Greg handed the girl back her soda.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I still don’t know which cousins you were referring to,” Greg said, eyes on the official. “I wasn’t aware that I had any English cousins.”

“I think I met you once,” the boy offered out of the blue. “I think I was almost four or something.”

Greg blinked, surprised. Come to think of it, he had met a family ten years or so back. The father hadn’t mentioned much, certainly not where he was from, but had said he was Greg’s distant cousin. Two children, one boy, one girl. “Arthur…” he said slowly, teasing the memory out. “…and Victoria…”

“Our parents,” the girl confirmed, sniffling. She leaned into her brother’s arm.

Greg surveyed them both, more than a bit surprised that Arthur would have chosen a complete stranger in another country to raise his children. The official did not give him time to protest. “As I said, Mr. Parker, the late Lord and Lady Calvin’s will designates you as the children’s guardian. I have also brought the children’s trunks along…”

Greg’s brows shot up at _that_. None of the three had been hauling luggage. The official removed two pocket sized items from his robes and set them on the floor next to the table. Next, he drew a finely carved stick of wood from a forearm holster and tapped the objects. They expanded rapidly, actually pushing the table a bit to the side as they grew. Neither teen looked surprised, though Greg was forced to shove shock into the same ‘box’ he’d already stuffed his bewilderment into.

The official looked up, showing his first emotion besides boredom. He smirked, enjoying the shock Greg had been unable to hide. “I do apologize,” he said smoothly, though his tone and eyes offered no actual apology, “I should have informed you that we hail from the British _Magical_ World.”

“Magical World?” Greg managed, his negotiator mask breaking down a bit.

“Yes, magic, Mr. Parker. Naturally, both you and your charges shall be required to maintain the International Statute of Secrecy.” He did not elaborate on the Statute; instead he gave the teens a positively smug smirk and continued, “Now, then, once the investigation into the fire is complete, the estate will be released to your control until young Lancelot reaches his majority. The late Lord and Lady have already been buried, so you need not concern yourself with that…”

“What about the Death Eaters?” Lancelot demanded, anger radiating from him.

The official’s gaze turned hard. “There was no evidence of foul play; no evidence of any Death Eater presence at all.”

Greg frowned as both teens protested this. “If the investigation isn’t complete, how can you say that?” he asked, concerned by the official’s lack of professionalism.

The hard gaze turned on Greg, but he refused to back down. “Matters of the magical world are none of your concern, Mr. Parker. If you have no further questions, I must be going. Canadian Ministry representatives will call in a day or two to arrange for the children to be registered in the Toronto School of Magic.” Without waiting for a reply, he vanished with a _crack_ , leaving Greg alone with the two magical teens.

Greg sucked in a breath, pushing down his temper. Leaving two kids alone with a complete stranger, little information, no attempts to clarify what information he had imparted, _and_ not giving Greg any time to ask his own questions had not left the Sergeant with a favorable impression of the magical government’s representative. Grimly, he pushed aside his fuming to focus on more immediate problems. Like the fact that his apartment wasn’t big enough for three people. And the fact that it was now 3:30 in the morning and there was _no_ way he’d be able to get the day off. _One problem at a time, Parker._

He turned to the kids and offered them a smile. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed and we can start working things out, okay?” He waited until both offered tentative head bobs before he headed back to his bedroom and changed into more appropriate clothing.

He detoured to the kitchen as the coffeemaker beeped, pouring a cup to fortify himself for what promised to be a very long day. As he came back into the living room, the girl, _Alanna_ , he remembered, jumped and darted away from his TV. Her brother had been examining the remote and he dropped it on the couch, equally wary.

“You watch much?” Greg asked, gesturing to the TV when they gave him blank looks.

Lancelot gave him a wide-eyed look. “Is that a felly-vision?” he asked, also pointing to the TV.

The coffee came close to ending up all over Greg’s shirt and the floor. After a long moment, he changed tactics. “Have either of you ever been outside the uh, ahem, _magical_ world?”

“Today,” Alanna offered. Her brother winced, but nodded agreement.

“Okay…” Greg looked around the room. “Is there anything you two recognize? Besides the _television_ , I mean.” As he said ‘television’, he pointed to the TV, drawing comprehending nods from both of his new charges.

“The books,” Alanna informed him at once, managing to actually bounce a tiny bit as she smirked at her brother.

Said brother looked around the room carefully, making Greg’s heart drop a bit at just how _much_ they didn’t _know_. Finally, Lancelot pointed to the clock. “I think that’s a clock but it’s off.”

Well, that answered a few questions. “No, it’s not,” Greg replied. “Toronto’s in a different time zone than Britain is.”

“You mean it really _is_ …” Lancelot started.

“3:48 in the morning?” Greg finished for him. “Yes, it is.” He considered both teens. “Look,” he began, keeping his tone as gentle as possible. “I can’t even imagine what the two of you are going through right now. You’ve lost your parents, your home, you’re going to be living with someone neither of you know.” He stopped as Alanna sniffled and wiped at her eyes. The coffee cup was set down on the table as Greg moved toward her and tugged her into a hug. He looked over at Lancelot and gestured the lost-looking teen over. The teen shook his head and Greg left him alone, for the moment.

“It’s going to be hard and we’re all going to make mistakes, but we’ll figure things out,” Greg promised both teens. “Now, do either of you have non-magical clothing?” At the twin head-shakes, Greg sighed and added another item to his mental to-do list. _Shopping…wonderful._


	4. Meeting Team One

Greg stifled a sigh as he showed the kids how to work their seatbelts. His kindly next-door neighbor had lent him two sets of clothes for the teens; their collection of robes would raise red flags a mile high. The kids had been willing to fill him in on the ‘International Statute of Secrecy’ as well as the events of the past day and a half. Greg was appalled at how the British magicals had treated both kids and the utter mess they’d apparently made of the investigation into the elder Calvins’ deaths. While Greg could understand why the _magical_ world hid from the ‘normal’ world, he had no idea how he and two kids who’d never _been_ in the ‘normal’ world were supposed to keep magic secret. And on _that_ note, there was one term the teens were using that was just annoying…

“Muggle?” he asked, arching a brow. “That’s what you call people without magic?”

“Yes, Cousin Greg,” the talkative Alanna confirmed. The much quieter Lancelot nodded in agreement.

Greg arched the other brow and eyed both. “Why don’t we agree on ‘Uncle’ rather than ‘Cousin’?” He waited for both kids to nod in agreement, then went on, “And I know you aren’t the ones who came up with the word ‘Muggle’ but that stops right now.”

“Why?” Lancelot asked.

“Because ‘Muggle’ sounds like an insult instead of a description.”

Both teens gave him confused looks.

Greg did sigh this time. “Think about it. If I describe you two as ‘magicals’ or ‘wizards’, that’s accurate, right?”

Alanna muttered that she was a witch but both nodded.

“Okay, witch,” he tilted his head at Alanna, who blushed a little, “but if either of you were to describe me, the word you’re most likely to use is ‘Muggle’. It’s simple, I’ll give you that, but it implies that I’m foolish and it doesn’t take _any_ of the non-magical world’s achievements into account.”

“So,” Alanna asked carefully, “You prefer non-magical?” She made a face at the rather clunky term.

Greg shrugged. “For now. If you can come up with something better, I’m open to suggestions. You two okay in there?”

Alanna made another face as she tugged at the belt. Lancelot just nodded as he leaned down and started to poke at the drink holders.

“Leave the seat belts on, kids. It’s safer for you that way _and_ it’s the law,” Greg chided, though he kept his tone gentle.

* * * * *

“Two kids? And you had no idea you were named as guardian in their parents’ will?” Commander Holleran asked. The black man was taller than Greg, sported a lanky frame, and had brown eyes with glasses. What hair Holleran had left was a pepper mix of gray and white.

“Not a clue until 3 this morning,” Greg vented a bit, before reining himself in. “I did meet the family years ago but I didn’t know they were from England and I only met the family once.” Greg shrugged and added, “ I think he found me through some genealogy thing. Aside from the one meeting, I never heard from them again.” _Until today._

Holleran sighed, leaning back in his chair. “And the parents? Anything you know about them?”

The Sergeant tilted his head, considering. “I know the father was a distant cousin of mine, I know they died two nights ago, and I know the kids think they were murdered.”

“Murdered?” Holleran demanded, shifting forward at _this_ unexpected tidbit. His eyes narrowed a touch.

“Yeah, Lancelot brought it up when the guy who brought them started talking about ‘wrapping up the investigation’. He shot Lancelot down and told _me_ that it was ‘none of my concern’.”

“Is there any way of finding out more?”

Greg shrugged again. “I might be able to find out more when the Canadian rep shows up, sir.”

“Keep me informed,” Holleran requested. “What do you need for now, Sergeant?”

“The kids need some clothes,” Greg said, skipping over _why_ they needed clothing, “and my apartment isn’t big enough for three people, so I need some time to see if I can get a larger apartment.”

“I’ll arrange for your team to be on mall patrol today,” Holleran decided. “I’m sure if you need help with other things, your team will be more than willing to help out or cover for you long enough to make some calls.”

“Thank you, sir.”

* * * * *

Lance and Alanna looked around the large room their ‘Uncle’ had called the briefing room. The ‘dispatcher’ Sally had brought both of them sodas and sandwiches. She was about the same height as their new uncle, had brown eyes, and light brown, long, curly hair. The material around the sandwiches had given Lance a bad moment when he’d tried to bite into it, but at least the clear gauzy material had been easy enough to pull away.

The chairs and table in the room, while easy to identify, were completely different from what the teens were familiar with. The black plush chairs were very comfortable and Alanna discovered that they even tilted back, a discovery she punctuated with a tiny squeak.

Both teens yelped when a “Hi there!” came from behind them. Lance spun the chair, making an abortive reach for his wand, only to stop when the lanky, black-haired man held up both hands. “Whoa, whoa, easy guys. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Who are you?” Alanna asked.

The stranger grinned and crouched to talk to them. “I’m Spike,” he told them, with a tiny gesture toward his hair, which was a puffed up mess of ‘spikes’. He was shorter than Uncle Greg, had brown eyes, a touch of rounding on his jaw, and a compact frame. “Who are you two?”

“Alanna,” she said shyly, ducking just a bit behind her brother.

“I’m Lance,” her brother said, offering a hand.

Spike shook Lance’s hand, quirking a brow. “Who left you guys in here?”

“Uncle Greg,” Alanna told him.

Both brows shot up. “ ‘Uncle’?” Both teens nodded. Spike let out a low whistle, “Sarge’s been holding out on us.”

The siblings fidgeted and Lance spoke up. “He was really surprised. I don’t think he really knew about us before today.”

“Huh,” Spike managed. Then he craned his neck at the door and yelled, “Hey, Lou! Come meet the Sarge’s _nipotes_(1)!”

Another man entered the room. He wasn’t quite as dark as Minister Shacklebolt, his skin more of a tan color. He was taller than Spike, possessed a narrow and lean build, and had buzzcutted black hair. “ _Nipotes_ , Spike?” His gaze dropped to the kids and he let out his own low whistle. “Hi there,” he managed.

“Do you work with Uncle Greg too?” Alanna asked, still hiding behind her brother.

Lou exchanged a look with Spike, who nodded, and replied, “Yes, ma’am. We’re all on Team One.”

“Team One?” Lance queried.

Before either man could respond, a short woman with hazel eyes, a slight frame, and dark brown long hair done up in a ponytail peeked in. “Oh!” she said, showing off a jaw with a slight inner curve, “Who are you two sweethearts?”

Spike did a mock preen, drawing a laugh from Alanna and a little smile from Lance. Lou rolled his eyes and smacked Spike on the arm as he turned to the woman. “Jules, these are the Boss’s _nipotes_ …” he began.

“Lance and Alanna,” Spike finished smoothly.

“Jules is on Team One with your Uncle, Spike, and me,” Lou told the teens.

“So,” Lance asked, “What do you do?”

“We protect people.” Jules offered, smiling at the kids.

“Like the Aurors?” Alanna whispered to Lance, unaware that the three officers could hear her. The officers traded confused looks at the unfamiliar term while Lance tugged his sister away and hissed something at her. She hissed right back. While the teens were squabbling, two more men arrived.

The first man was taller than all the others and bald with light blue eyes. He had a lanky frame and a stern look. The broad-shouldered second man was just a bit shorter than the first man. He had a very short light brown buzzcut, gray eyes, and a friendly expression.

“Ed, Wordy,” Spike called, intent on introducing the teens to as many members of Team One as he could manage.

“What’s up, Spike?” the second man asked.

The first man leaned past Jules and arched a brow. “Who brought the munchkins?”

“Ed!” Jules scolded. “Don’t let the Boss catch you calling his niece and nephew ‘munchkins’.”

Spike was a trifle disappointed that Jules had dropped the bombshell, but he enjoyed the shock on both new arrivals’ faces.

“Sarge has a niece and nephew?” Wordy managed after a few moments. He moved around Jules and Lou to get a better look at the siblings.

Said siblings had stopped squabbling at the ‘munchkins’ comment. Neither one knew what that was supposed to mean. “What’s a ‘munchkins’?” Alanna asked.

Wordy’s eyes widened a bit in surprise at the odd question. “Means ‘kids’ or ‘children’. Where are you two from?” he asked, tilting his head a bit at the teens’ odd accent.

“Derbyshire,” Lance offered.

“Where’s that?” Ed asked.

“England,” Wordy replied before either teen could. “My girls and Shelley watched _Pride and Prejudice_ last weekend.” Though he noticed the puzzled looks the teens gave each other, he said nothing.

“I see everyone here has met my new charges,” Greg remarked from behind the entire group. All of them jumped and turned to the newly arrived Sergeant. Greg smiled at his team. “Rollie’s off today, so he’ll meet Alanna and Lancelot another day.”

Lance raised his hand a bit. “Um, I prefer Lance, sir.”

Greg tilted his head at his nephew. “Lance, huh. Okay with me. But one thing,” he added playfully. “Don’t call me ‘sir’, I _work_ for a living.”

A slight spark entered Lance’s eyes. “Yes, _sir_.”

Team One laughed at their Sergeant, Lance’s spunk breaking some of the tension. “Ouch,” Greg joked. “Okay, Team One, suit up.”

The team acknowledged the order and finally dispersed to the locker rooms.

* * * * *

Greg surveyed his team. They were curious about the kids and their circumstances, something he understood even as he would have to shut that curiosity down as much as possible.

“Alright, team. You’ve all met _mio nipotes_. They’ll be living with me from now on…” He was cut off as Team One cheered the news. “Yes, yes, you’re all excited for me. Keep it cool guys, the kids only lost their folks two nights ago.”

Team One’s enthusiasm vanished at once and the teens received several apologetic looks. Alanna sniffled and her brother pulled her into a hug. Greg moved forward, hoping to give the teens a moment by distracting his team. “As the kids will need new clothes, Commander Holleran has been kind enough to assign us to the mall today.”

Nods went ‘round the room. “Some up close and personal Team One PR?” Jules suggested.

“Excellent idea, Jules. The kids will be riding with me over to the mall and, since it’s the kids’ first day with us, we’ll be sticking together instead of breaking into pairs as usual.” That a clustered group would give Greg some cover to call his landlord went unsaid.

Team One did not object. All of them wanted a chance to get to know the Sarge’s new charges.

 * * * * *

[1] Italian for a nephew or niece


	5. First Trip to the Mall

Lance fingered the seat belt. Alanna was pouting, she had tried to put the upper section of belt behind her back and Uncle Greg had forced her to put it back in front. Though Uncle Greg had tried to offer both teens radios to keep in contact with him and the team, they’d both rebelled, still wary of Muggle technology.

The big, black Muggle trucks had already nearly sent them running. Only Uncle Greg’s presence had been sufficient to get the skittish teens inside. The deep growl of the truck as Uncle Greg turned something on the ‘staring wheel’ made Lance jump.

“Okay,” Uncle Greg said, turning around to look at them both. “How are you two holding up so far?”

Alanna looked up but, for once, said nothing.

“Your team is nice,” Lance offered.

“I think so,” Uncle Greg agreed. “I know they can’t be told about your _abilities_ ,” he gave them a significant look and both nodded, “but they’ll help you both settle in and learn things. Wordy has three little girls and Ed’s got a son a bit older than you two.”

Before either could speak up, he lifted a hand to keep them quiet and gestured to the device on his ear. After a moment, he said, “Copy that,” and turned around. Lance traded a nervous look with Alanna as the truck made an odd noise and then started moving forward. Another black truck was in front of theirs and a third followed them.

The trip was much longer than the floo would have been. The trucks would move smoothly for several streets, then stop for what seemed like minutes for some, as yet unknown, reason. The buildings lining the streets were so different from Diagon Alley. They were much taller than either sibling had ever seen before and most of the signs above the shop windows were lit up and glowing, even though it was daylight out. People filled the sidewalks, going to and fro on their daily business. There were more people on the sidewalks than the teens had ever seen, even during the August pre-Hogwarts hustle and bustle.

By the time the trucks arrived, both teens were more than a little overwhelmed. The massive concrete building all three trucks pulled into actually drew a few whimpers. As far as the teens could see there were Muggle trucks and cars. The ground was littered with yellow lines and the periodic thumps their truck made inside the structure prompted stifled yelps. When the truck finally stopped and the growling noise ceased, the siblings let out sighs of relief.

Uncle Greg clambered out and pulled the back door open. “I know it seems impossible, but you _will_ get used to all of this.” Lance and Alanna cast him disbelieving looks as they fumbled their way free of the seat belts.

Once out of the truck, they were more than willing to stay behind their uncle as he led the way into the mall. It was much larger than Diagon Alley. Stores lined the broad stone walkway on both sides. The walkway itself led to a large, open area with a fountain in the center and shops that marched around the edges. Other walkways split off from the area and the teens could see stairs that marked a second level of stores, light, noise, and people. As it had been during the trek here, people were everywhere, going into stores, sitting by the fountain, and generally behaving as though all of _this_ was normal. Light and noise assaulted the siblings from all directions. Wordy, who had been walking close behind the teens, found himself being clung to by Alanna as her brother hovered close to his uncle, though he didn’t actually cling to the man.

* * * * *

Team One cast each other puzzled looks. The teens were acting as if they had never been _in_ a mall before. “Sarge?” Wordy asked, even as he put both arms around the all but crying Alanna.

Greg blew out a breath. “From what little I’ve been able to find out so far, they’re from a _very_ small community that didn’t use technology or interact much with ‘outsiders’.” That much was true and would hopefully satisfy his team.

“A cult?” Jules asked, tone cautious.

“No,” Greg replied. “More like the Amish I think,” he improvised. He tugged Alanna away from Wordy and nudged Lance to be in front of him. “Do we need to take this slower?” he asked them. It would be much easier if they could take care of things today, but maybe he needed to stop pushing them into new situations for a day or so.

Alanna shook her head, hair flying. A stubborn, mulish look took up residence on her face. She wanted this _done_ and _over with_. Greg turned toward Lance, who took a moment to mull over the question. The boy kept his eyes on Alanna though and shook his head so quickly after she did that it was clear he was just going along with her.

“Okay,” Greg allowed. He turned his attention to his team. “If they get overwhelmed, get them out of whichever store you’re in.”

“Copy,” his team responded, more or less simultaneously.

“Jules,” Greg continued, “You’re the only one who can go into dressing rooms with Alanna. Make sure she gets everything she needs.”

“Got it, Sarge,” Jules promised.

Alanna looked nervous but allowed herself to be maneuvered closer to Jules.

“Phones,” Spike piped up. “They’ll need those too, right, Sarge?”

“Good point, Spike,” Greg agreed. “You handle those. Keep it simple for now. Just basic phones.”

Spike looked disappointed but offered a “Copy that,” nonetheless. He waved to Lou and the pair headed off.

“Spike,” Ed called, drawing the pair’s attention back to the group. “No video games.”

Greg blinked at his team leader, surprised, but Spike’s slightly crestfallen look confirmed Ed’s suspicion had been right on target. He nodded in agreement with Ed’s order. The teens looked unhappy enough at the idea of the phones, though Greg doubted they really understood what phones were yet.

“Okay,” Ed continued, taking over, “Clothing stores. Let’s stick to the less crowded ones guys.” He got nods all around. “Let’s get this done.”

* * * * *

Alanna let Miss Jules lead her to the ‘dressing rooms’. She’d never seen anything like that at Madam Malkin’s, but then, she’d never seen so many already made pieces of clothing in one place before. None of it looked like robes either. Miss Jules had figured out Alanna had no idea what clothing to pick early on and had taken charge of selecting the different options. Mister Wordy, who was sticking close to her after her breakdown, had also pointed out a few options, most of which Alanna liked. She did, however, bypass anything pink with a huff and a toss of her head. Just because she was a _girl_ didn’t mean she liked _pink_. That was frilly stuff for _Muggle_ princesses. Violet was _much_ better.

* * * * *

They ended up leaving the first store with only a few items. Most of the options either hadn’t suited the girl or had been dismissed as _too girly_. Wordy and Jules exchanged wry grins at that. Sarge had quite the tomboy on his hands.

Ed and Sarge departed a nearby store with Lance in tow. Ed looked frustrated and Lance had recovered enough poise to cast the man a very teenage eyeroll. Sarge had planted himself in the middle, a move that was definitely deliberate. Lance carried a shopping bag, so at least both groups had found _something_.

Wordy jogged forward a little. “Sarge, there’s a bigger store with both boys and girls clothing further in. It might be busier but it’s less specialized.”

“Copy that,” Sarge agreed. “Take point, Wordy.”

Alanna stuck to Wordy like glue as he led the way, using his size, bulk, and uniform to part the crowd. Lance had moved up to stay by his sister, one eye on her and the other on Sarge. Something, other than new experiences galore, was worrying the boy, but Wordy wasn’t quite sure _what_ yet. The SRU constable spotted his target and headed for the relatively quiet store interior. Once the whole group was inside, both teens relaxed a little and examined the store curiously.

The store was larger than either of the two stores the group had been in thus far. It was large enough that signs hung from the ceiling advertising different clothing sections. Music played in the background, but, much to the relief of all, was much softer than the prior two stores.

“What’ve we got here?” Ed asked.

Wordy shrugged. “Pretty much everything from underwear to outerwear. All different colors too, so Alanna here,” he cast a grin at the girl, “doesn’t send almost everything to the pink discard rack.” The girl didn’t look the least bit repentant and Sarge arched a brow at her.

“So, nothing with pink, eh?” he observed, eyes twinkling at her.

“Pink is for princesses.”

“So, what are you?” Jules asked.

The girl shrugged. “An archer, like Queen Susan the Gentle.”

“Chronicles of Narnia,” Jules agreed with a little grin. “I love those books.”

Alanna looked a little confused at Jules’ comment, but didn’t reply.

“Okay,” Sarge decided, “Wordy, take Lance. Jules, take Alanna again.”

“Copy,” both SRU officers agreed.

* * * * *

Spike and Lou met them outside the store. This time the ‘clothing’ group had come away with quite a bit more. Enough that Jules and Ed had volunteered to take their haul back to the trucks. As they departed, Spike drew himself up with a grin to report. “Got the phones, Boss. And cases with belt clips to carry them.”

“It’s not pink, is it?” Alanna asked suspiciously.

Spike’s grin grew wider. “Nope. Wordy texted me a warning about you and the color pink, ‘Lanna. Yours is purple.” He offered her a bag with a flourish.

She examined the phone box and case inside the bag a moment before accepting it. “Violet,” she insisted. She did not, however, protest the nickname. Her brother cocked his head at the nickname and a sly smirk spread across his face as he accepted his own bag with a phone and a fire-red case inside.

“Leave the phones in the boxes for now,” Sarge decided. “I’ll show you two how to use them when we have a few free minutes.”

Neither sibling protested. Spike looked around. “You guys got the clothes, we got the phones, anything else we need?”

Sarge considered, but shook his head. He hadn’t gotten a free moment to call his landlord but he was sure he’d be able to once they stopped for lunch.

As if Spike had read his mind, he asked, “So, lunch?” in a hopeful tone. The teens looked equally hopeful…and hungry. Before any of the group, including the newly returned Ed and Jules, could respond there was a distant gunshot and the mall atmosphere dissolved into a mass of running, screaming people.


	6. Hot Call

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Ed groaned. He didn’t mind the day’s activities; it actually made a nice change of pace and meeting Greg’s new charges was more than worth the slow day. It figured that just as he settled into the day’s routine Fate, or the city’s criminal population, would throw a curveball at them.

“Eddie, take Jules and Lou,” Greg ordered. “Spike, track down the head of mall security, get a room for us to use, and start tracking our subjects through the cameras. I’ll catch up in a minute.” He turned toward Wordy and the kids, bending down a bit to look the kids in the eye. “You two are going to stay with Wordy. You follow his instructions, no questions asked.” He gave them a stern look, and Lance ducked his head, remembering the fuss they’d thrown over the radios.

Greg looked up at Wordy. “The mall is probably already locking down.” Wordy nodded in agreement. “If you need to get the kids out of here, I’ll back you up,” Greg promised.

“You got it, Sarge,” Wordy replied, all but saluting.

Before Greg could jog away, Alanna grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.

Greg turned back to her and knelt down to her level. “I’ll be as careful as I can, Alanna. And my team will watch my back, just as much as I watch theirs. But this is our _job_ , _mia nipote_ , and you have to let us do it.” He held her gaze a moment, watching for a bob of her head. “Okay?”

Alanna nodded, released her uncle’s wrist and stepped back. As Greg jogged away, Wordy dropped his hand onto Alanna’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

* * * * *

Alanna reached out and grabbed her brother’s hand as her new uncle left them behind. Mister Wordy’s hand on her shoulder warmed her and chased away the chilling fear of losing more. Two days ago, her greatest fear had been finding friends on the first train ride to Hogwarts at the end of summer. Since then, she’d lost both her parents, her home…everything except her brother and what few belongings Mindy had saved. They’d even been forced to leave the loyal house-elf behind in England after the Aurors discovered their new uncle was a Muggle.

“Come on, kids,” Mister Wordy said, pulling the two back inside the store they’d just left. Inside the store, he took charge and ordered both the customers and the store employees to move to the back of the store where the dressing rooms were. In short order, everyone was in the most protected area of the store and the front door had been locked.

Alanna would have liked to stick by the tall, friendly man, but he waved over the same store clerk who’d helped her earlier. “Keep on an eye on the kids for me a moment?” he requested.

“Certainly, officer,” the black-haired woman replied, before ushering both teens away but not quite out of earshot. She might have taken them further but Alanna resisted her pull after a few steps.

“Sarge,” Mister Wordy said, making both teens look before they realized he was using his ear device. “Kids are safe, the store we were in before the shot is secure.”

 _Secure?_ Alanna wondered. It _wasn’t_ secure; there weren’t any wards up around the store or even so much as a glamour charm to hide the locked door. She looked at her brother wide-eyed and he shrugged, agreeing with her but helpless to do anything about it. Alanna scowled and leaned in close to Lance. “You could do _something_ ,” she hissed.

“It’s a Muggle area, sis, we’d get caught,” Lance retorted, his voice as soft as hers.

“So?” she demanded.

“Sis, stop,” Lance said as he gripped her wand arm. “Uncle Greg’s in _charge_ of these guys. He’s not on the front lines. We _aren’t_ going to lose him. Besides, you heard him. This is their job, and if Uncle Greg’s _anything_ like Dad, he’s really, really good at it.”

Alanna’s composure broke and she clung to her brother. “He still died.”

“I know, sis, I know.” Lance looked up at Mister Wordy, blinking at his worried expression, and shook his head. For once today, Alanna’s sorrow had _nothing_ to do with the strange Muggle world they were stuck in. Still, it was quite a relief to realize that _someone_ besides blood family actually cared about them.

* * * * *

Greg was very tempted to swear under his breath. The situation his team now had to defuse had started with shoplifting. _Shoplifting_. Hardly the crime of the century. When a mall security guard had spotted a pair of shoplifters exiting a store, he’d intervened. One of the shoplifters, rather than surrendering or running, had pulled a gun and fired it into the air. That was the shot his team had heard. The pair had promptly retreated back inside the store they’d just robbed and forced a store employee to lock the doors. From shoplifting to a hostage situation.

“Okay, Spike, let’s start running these guys. They escalated way too fast for this to be their first.”

“Copy, Boss,” Spike acknowledged. “Kids going to be okay?”

“I hope so,” Greg admitted. “Wordy’s with them.”

As if on cue, Wordy reported in. “Sarge. Kids are safe; the store we were in before the shot is secure.”

“Copy that,” Greg acknowledged. “Okay, team. From the CCTV, we’re dealing with a hostage situation. Spike is running the subjects right now. Ed, get eyes in; we need to know how many hostages there are and _where_ they are.”

“Sarge,” Spike broke in, “checked the store’s employee records. Nine employees on record, looks like three were scheduled to work today.”

“Copy,” Greg replied. “Wordy, I know you’re with the kids, but if you can get us any info…”

“You got it,” Wordy agreed.

“Okay, team, let’s keep the peace.”

* * * * *

Lance and Alanna had moved with the store clerk to the door of a dressing room that stood apart from the rest of the store’s dressing rooms. Mister Wordy, after his conversation with their Uncle and the team, had begun asking the store employees for information about the mall layout and what they knew about the store at the center of the crisis. During each interview, he kept his gaze on who he was speaking with, but after, he always checked the corner the teens were in and gave them an encouraging smile or nod.

After a few minutes the clerk drew the siblings’ attention with a little cough. “So,” she asked, “Where are you two from?”

“England,” Lance offered.

“Wow. I’ve always wanted to visit there. Is it as beautiful as they say?”

Lance considered. “Where we lived still has forests and it’s really nice in the summer. I went to school up north, though, and the grounds are great, but winter’s really, really cold.”

The clerk made a face at the cold comment. “I suppose I’d better only visit in summer then,” she joked.

Alanna tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. Her wand hand trailed to her wand holster and she ran her fingers along her wand, drawing comfort from the action. She didn’t realize the clerk had seen her wand until the woman’s eyes went wide.

“How exquisite,” the clerk gushed. “What kind of wood is that?”

Alanna stammered and tried to cover her wand.

“Don’t worry about a thing, dear,” the clerk reassured her. “My sister’s a witch, first in the family.” The woman puffed in pride at the words. “She has a willow wand, with a unicorn tail hair.”

Both siblings blinked at this information. Alanna managed a shy smile. “It’s rowan wood, with a phoenix tail feather.”

The clerk beamed at both of them. “How wonderful. You both have magic?”

Twin nods.

“Well, that’s perfect,” the woman clapped. “We can go to the magical side of the mall and you two can tell me all about Magical Britain.”

“The mall…has a magical quarter?” Lance asked, puzzled at the idea.

“It does,” the clerk told them. “Many of the stores in the mall have secret entrances to the magical side, for any tourists or Muggleborns. All warded of course,” she assured them as she started nudging them farther toward the rear of the dressing rooms.

“But,” Alanna started, looking over at Mister Wordy.

“We can’t leave Mister Wordy here,” Lance objected. “We promised to stay with him.”

“I’ll tell him there’s a safer area farther back in the store,” the clerk assured them.

Lance dug his heels in and shook his head. “I thank you for your kind and generous offer, madam, but to accept it is impossible.” Though he kept his voice low and his words polite, the strain of the past few days and hours was catching up with him. “My sister and I promised our uncle that we would stay with Mister Wordy and obey him. I will not break my word.”

The clerk’s panic over the tense situation broke through as she lost her kind expression and tone. “It’s safe over there. I can’t get through the Muggle-Repelling charm but _you_ can.”

“Safe?” Lance echoed, staring at the frantic clerk. “You think magic makes things safer? That magic can fix anything, mend any breach?” Alanna tugged at her brother, but he’d just been pushed too far. “As far as _I’m_ concerned, the magical world is a whole lot _less_ safer than _this_ one. Maybe in _this_ world, the rich, entitled blights on magic who killed our parents would actually face justice instead of _buying their way free!_ ”

Alanna stared over her brother’s shoulder, face white. The clerk was pale and trembling, far more than Lance’s little outburst warranted. Lance gulped and turned around.

Mister Wordy stood right behind him, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. There could be no doubt that he had heard every word.


	7. Breaking the Statute of Secrecy

Wordy’s attention had been caught when the kids started arguing with the clerk about _something_ and Alanna had looked over at him. At first, Wordy had just been concerned, but it escalated to worry when the woman started trying to herd the teens farther back into the store. He started over to the group, keeping quiet to prevent the clerk from realizing how close he was.

“…charm but _you_ can,” the clerk was saying as he got close enough to hear.

Lance stiffened in what looked like outrage. “Safe?” he demanded, his voice almost breaking with pain. “You think magic makes things safer? That magic can fix anything, mend any breach?” _Wait, what? Magic?_ Wordy felt his jaw drop. And Lance was just getting warmed up. “As far as _I’m_ concerned, the magical world is a whole lot _less_ safer than _this_ one. Maybe in _this_ world, the rich, entitled blights on magic who killed our parents would actually face justice instead of _buying their way free!_ ”

Wordy knew he was gaping like an idiot at this point, but the idea that the _kids_ had _magic_ was outrageous, impossible to believe. Except he _did_ believe it. Crazy as it sounded, he didn’t think the teen was lying. Especially when he factored in Alanna’s wide-eyed, pale as a ghost expression and the clerk’s frozen horror as they both stared at him. Then Lance turned around, pain etched across his features. He met Wordy’s stunned gaze and dropped his own, hiding tears.

The SRU constable stepped forward and, without giving Lance an option, pulled him into a hug. The boy’s composure shattered and he cried, finally clinging to someone and grieving for his parents. Wordy cast the clerk a glare that made her shrink away from him and, once he was satisfied the woman would not interrupt, turned to Alanna with an arched brow. “Who bought their way free?”

Judging from the look on the girl’s face, it was not the opening question she’d expected. It took a minute for her to respond, but Wordy didn’t hurry her along. He suspected she’d been hustled along quite enough in the past few days.

“Death Eaters,” she finally hissed. “They killed our parents, burned our home to the ground, took away _everything_ , and because they’re all rich, entitled _purebloods_ , they went free.”

“Purebloods?” Wordy asked.

Alanna looked at her brother, but he was in no shape to jump in yet. Sighing, she answered, “Purebloods are wizards and witches who can trace their magical heritage back at least to their grandparents.” She grimaced and added, “Dad told us that the extreme types like to claim their family trees don’t have any Mu…non-magicals at all. I got the idea he thought they were just fooling themselves.”

Wordy arched a questioning brow. “So…you two aren’t pureblood?”

There was a rather watery laugh from Lance, who finally pushed himself upright again. “Bleedin’ hilarious, isn’t it? We _are_ pureblood, only the Death Eaters think our family’s full of ‘blood-traitors’, so they hate us as much as they hate Muggleborns.”

“Lance,” Alanna protested.

“I know what Uncle Greg said, ‘Lanna, but it’s not like there’s _another_ easy term for anyone born to non-magical parents.”

“Wait a sec, Sarge _knows_?” Wordy blurted.

He was rewarded with two ‘are-you-kidding’ looks. “Of course he knows,” Alanna said with a huff.

“He’s our new guardian,” Lance broke in. “He has to know about our magic, especially since both of us are still in school.”

Well, _that_ made sense. So did a couple of other things, now that Wordy thought about it. “Plus, neither of you have ever lived outside the magical world, am I right?”

Twin head shakes. Wordy shook his head and paced a moment, thinking.

“So, let’s see if I’ve got this straight. Your parents were murdered, the killers bribed their way out of jail…”

“Most of them are either high-up in the Ministry or on the Wizengamot,” Alanna interrupted.

“Wizengamot?”

“Our high court,” Lance admitted.

Wordy stared at both teens. “You’ve got criminals running your government?” He knew he sounded incredulous and that the siblings could hardly help how their government was run, but _really_? A government so corrupt that criminals walked free based on their heritage, wealth, and prestige? Sounded more like a third-world country than 21 st century Great Britain.

Neither teen would meet his eyes and the constable shook his head. Although he did have one more question. “So, if you’ve got criminals practically running the government, how’d you two end up with Sarge?”

“Dad’s will,” Lance explained, his eyes lighting up a bit. “The pureblood bigots got one heck of surprise once it was read. Dad tracked Uncle…well, actually he’s our cousin…Greg down years ago and he proved Uncle Greg was blood kin to us, so even though Uncle Greg doesn’t have magic, Dad’s will gave him guardianship of us.”

Alanna chipped in with a smug smirk. “Blood is blood in the magical world. The bigots couldn’t contest the will _or_ Dad’s choice of guardian _because_ of the very same rules and traditions they love so much.”

Wordy’s brows shot up at that. Beating the bad guys at their own game, using their own rules. _Slick._ “Okay, kids. When this is over, I’ll probably have a whole lot _more_ questions…” _Starting with what the heck ‘Death Eaters’ are, ‘cause it sounds like there’s some history there._ “…but for now…” He whirled to the clerk and gave her an icy glare. “Was there some _reason_ you were trying to drag the kids away from me? _Besides_ the whole magic gig?”

* * * * *

When the clerk merely whimpered, Alanna rolled her eyes. “She told us there’s a magical part of the mall.”

Mister Wordy nodded but kept his gaze on the woman. “And you know this how?” he demanded.

Rather than respond, the clerk shook her head. “They shouldn’t have told you,” she whispered. “Muggles aren’t _supposed_ to know about magic.”

“So _you_ have magic?” Mister Wordy asked.

Lance snorted at that, drawing the constable’s attention. “If she had magic, she’d have already bolted. She wanted us to pull her through the wards that keep non-magicals out of the magic quarter.”

Alanna kept explaining at the confused expression on Mister Wordy’s face. “Her sister has magic, so her family’s allowed to know about magic.” With a blush, she admitted. “She realized we had magic when she spotted my wand just now.”

The girl was startled when Mister Wordy leaned forward a bit, his expression turning curious as he interrupted. “May I see?” he asked.

“S-sure,” she replied, pulling the wand out and showing him. She described the wand as he inspected it, then tucked the wand back in its holster. She looked at her brother but he didn’t say anything about his own wand.

He did, however, add one detail about the magical side of the mall that Alanna had inadvertently left out. “It’s not just this store that has an entrance. Other stores have entrances too. Maybe even that store you were asking the other store employees about.”

“You mean there might be a back way in?” Mister Wordy demanded, clearly interested in the possibility.

“We could check,” Alanna offered. “There are other entrances to Diagon Alley back home other than the Leaky Cauldron. Usually _someone_ knows all about them and most wizards and witches are happy to help kids.”

“Or a directory,” Mister Wordy mused. When the teens gave him confused looks, he elaborated. “It’s a map of the mall and a listing of all the stores and places to eat.” He frowned thoughtfully, considering what they’d told him. When Alanna would have said something, her brother waved her silent. She scowled at him, but obeyed.

“Okay,” Mister Wordy decided. “You guys can get me in there, right?”

“Yes,” Alanna agreed.

“Good. We’ll all go in and find out if there’s an entrance into our target store. Then I’ll tell Sarge and we can figure it out from there.”

“Tell him how?” Lance asked, spotting a problem at once.

“My radio,” Mister Wordy replied, giving him a confused look at the question.

Alanna and Lance traded worried looks. “Um,” Lance ducked his head. “Non-magical technology doesn’t work around magic,” he admitted.


	8. Into the Unknown

Wordy paused a moment, confused. “What do you mean, technology doesn’t work around magic? You two have magic and my radio still works,” he pointed out.

“Because we aren’t past the wards,” Lance said firmly. “Once we’re past the wards, it won’t work and it might even break.”

Alanna frowned at her brother. “Lance, are you sure?”

“Positive, sis. There were a couple of Muggleborns in my dorm at Hogwarts, Britain’s magical school,” he explained when Wordy arched a brow in silent query. “They all brought non-magical technology along and _none_ of it worked in the castle. One guy said after Christmas break that _his_ stuff never did work again, even when he was home.”

Disappointing, but Lance’s reasoning made sense. Wordy considered his options for a minute or so. Sarge and Ed would skin him alive for leaving his phone and radio behind. Actually, Sarge would probably kill him anyway for dragging the kids anywhere _near_ a hostage situation, but they were clearly the only way he was going to get into the magical side of the mall. Thoughtful, Wordy pulled out his phone and considered using it as a sacrificial ‘canary’ of sorts. _Wait…_ He turned the screen on, then held down the power button, shutting the phone down. He gestured Lance closer and held out the phone. The boy obeyed, studying the phone with a touch of curiosity.

“Can you take this to the other side of the ‘wards’ you were talking about and come right back?” Wordy requested.

“Why?” Lance asked, confused.

“I’ll explain when you come back, _if_ it works,” Wordy promised.

This time Lance nodded and took the phone. He looked at the clerk but she refused to look at him or help the trio. With a huff, Lance stalked past her and toward the rear of the dressing rooms. As soon as he reached the back wall, he stepped into the wall and vanished. Wordy reared back in surprise but Alanna merely nodded.

At Wordy’s puzzled look, she explained, “They use the same type of thing at King’s Cross to hide the Hogwarts train platform.”

As she spoke, her brother reappeared and hurried over, offering Wordy his phone back. Wordy crossed mental fingers as he powered it up. For a few seconds, the phone stayed dead, but then it powered on with its customary beeps and chimes. Wordy did a quick scan of the phone’s functions but it looked as if his idea had been a complete success. He gave the teens a grin and a thumbs up.

“Okay, looks like I can bring my gear along. I’ll just have to turn my phone and radio off before we go through those ‘ward’ things.”

The teens exchanged surprised looks at this news. Lance looked at the phone rather doubtfully and offered up another idea. “We could check and ask about that other store and come right back.”

Wordy shook his head at once. “Sarge is already going to have my hide for taking you two anywhere near trouble. Neither of you are leaving my line of sight if I can help it.” Without waiting for a response, he backed up a step or two and keyed his radio.

* * * * *

Greg huffed a sigh as the hostage-takers hung up on him. They were demanding a car with a full tank of gas, a clear path to said vehicle, and planned on hauling one of the hostages along to ensure police compliance. It wasn’t going to happen, but going in wasn’t an option either. The men had built a rough barricade in the back of the store, making the front entrance a kill zone for any entry teams. Not to mention the deaths of almost all or all of the hostages in such a scenario.

“Anyone have any ideas?” Greg asked.

“Gas?” Lou offered.

“Too risky,” Spike countered, his tone regretful. “They’d have time to shoot the hostages and that store has one of the mall’s better ventilation systems.”

Much to Greg’s surprise, Wordy spoke up. “Sarge, might have a back way into the store. Can’t be completely sure until I check it out, but if there _is_ a back way, it might be our best shot.”

“What about the kids?” Ed demanded before Greg could.

Wordy hesitated a moment. “Sarge, I’m going to need their help to get in where they’ve got the back areas of the mall hidden. I’ll keep them safe, I promise.”

Greg arched a brow at Wordy’s phasing. He needed their help? And what was that bit about hidden areas of the mall? Wordy knew Team One had the mall’s layout and blueprints. Greg tugged the plans over and stared at them. Something about Wordy’s report was bugging him; something that sounded…familiar.

“Okay, Wordy. Don’t take any chances and keep in contact,” Greg ordered.

There was a longer pause this time. “Sarge?” Wordy sounded very hesitant now. “I’m, um, going to have to turn my radio and phone off. Sounded like the back part of the mall has a lot of interference.”

As Wordy spoke, Greg’s eyes landed on the blueprints for the clothing store and he spotted what he hadn’t even realized he was looking for. One wall at the back of the store was marked with a peculiar symbol and nothing else. He almost staggered as the pieces fell into place. A hidden area of the mall, with possible entrances in multiple stores, that Wordy needed help getting into, and required Wordy to turn his communications off.

Ed was sputtering in outrage over the idea of Wordy turning his phone and radio off. Greg cut him off. “Wordy, go ahead and do it. Just _be careful_.”

The Sergeant pulled his ball cap off and wiped his forehead, ignoring Spike’s astonished expression. Somehow, Wordy had discovered the kids’ secret and if this worked, there was no way Greg could avoid the inevitable fallout. For better or for worse, Team One was going to find out about magic.

* * * * *

Wordy blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when Sarge gave him the go-ahead. _‘Be careful.’ Yeah, he figured it out,_ Wordy decided. He reached down and turned the radio off, then turned his phone off again. Instead of immediately departing with the kids, he gathered up the employees, including the clerk whose panic had resulted in the bombshell of the afternoon.

“Okay, I’m going to ask all of you to get the customers out of the store. Once everyone is out, follow the directions of our uniformed officers on scene. My boss wants to keep as many people accounted for as possible.”

“What about the kids?” the problem clerk asked sullenly.

“They stay with me,” Wordy told her firmly, not bothering to hide his displeasure with her. “Thank you for your cooperation thus far,” he added to the other employees.

It took several minutes, but eventually the trio had the store to themselves. The teens looked just as nervous as Wordy felt. Wordy gave them as much of a smile as he could muster. “Okay, kids, now what?”

“Everything ‘tuned off’?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, it’s _turned_ off,” Wordy replied and corrected with a wink.

“I’m gonna go first, make sure no one’s on the other side to see us come through,” Lance informed the constable.

“When Lance peeks back through, I’ll pull you through the wards,” Alanna added.

Wordy opened his mouth to protest either teen leaving his sight, then stopped, thought, and nodded reluctant permission in Lance’s direction. The teen didn’t wait for him to change his mind and vanished through the wall. After a few seconds, he peeked back through and waved.

Alanna latched onto Wordy’s wrist and tried to haul him forward. Wordy let her pull him, swallowing hard at the idea of going through what looked like a very solid wall. Right before they reached it, he closed his eyes. There was something that tingled against his skin and it felt like he was going through a gauzy substance for a few steps. When Alanna stopped, Wordy opened his eyes and looked around. It didn’t _look_ magic, just another store corridor. Until he looked back and realized he could _see right through the wall_. The constable jumped at the sight, but the teens, following his line of sight, didn’t look at all unnerved.

“That’s so people coming out don’t walk through the wall in front of Mu…non-magicals,” Lance explained, nodding at the wall.

“Gotcha,” Wordy managed, still unsettled.

“We should go,” Alanna piped up. “Before anyone comes along and realizes what we’re doing.”

Wordy frowned at the idea of the kids getting in trouble for showing him magic, but followed as the two led him down the corridor. It sloped downward, toward what would, in the main mall, be the first floor. The route was lit, not by florescent fixtures, but by fist-sized crystals mounted at regular intervals in the ceiling. As the group traveled farther downward, the corridor’s bland appearance changed into a pebbled road with hints of sun above. Actual sunlight, rather than crystal light. When the trio emerged into the main area of the magical mall, they all blinked at the sunlight and clouds above. It looked like an outdoor mall, complete with landscaped gardens, bubbling fountains, and winding paths that cut between the foliage and water pools. The stores looked as though they belonged in a historical village with their wooden storefronts and porches. Hand carved signs hung above each store’s doorway, advertising such things as _The Toronto Apothecray_ , _Florishing Bookstore_ , and _Brooms for All Occasions_. Near where the trio had stopped, there was a large marble block with the word “Stores” carved in meter high letters.

“Wow,” Wordy managed, as he tried to stare everywhere at once. “How’d they manage to put an outdoor mall in an indoor mall?”

“Magic,” Alanna offered impishly, giving Wordy an angelic smile.

Lance snorted and pointed above them. “It’s still indoors, Mister Wordy, but they’re using the same kind of magic that Hogwarts does in the Great Hall. It looks like we’re outdoors because it’s enchanted to look like the sky above.”

Wordy blinked, both at the ‘Mister’ and the explanation. “You can just call me Wordy, Lance. No need to add a ‘Mister’.”

Both teens gave him uncertain looks. “But, Mom said…” Alanna managed before looking down and trying not to sniffle too loudly.

Lance didn’t give Wordy a chance to respond, because right then he spotted someone coming toward them. With a hiss, he pulled Wordy and Alanna into a little alcove and out of sight.

Wordy waited until the gentleman had passed by before he crouched down to Alanna’s level. “Your mom wanted you to be respectful toward adults and call them ‘Mister’ or ‘Missus’?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like she was a great mom,” Wordy observed, waiting for Alanna to give him a tiny smile. “That’s how Shelley and I raise our girls too. But, I’m giving you two _permission_ to call me by my nickname. No ‘Mister’ required, okay?”

“Okay,” Alanna whispered as her brother nodded.

“Alright,” Wordy confirmed. He looked over at the marble directory. “I’m guessing you two want me to stay out of sight?”

Alanna nodded, but her brother explained. “Wizards usually wear robes. We’re kids, so we won’t stand out much, but _you’d_ attract a lot of attention.”

“Stealth entry, got it,” Wordy tried to tease a little. The blank looks he got were a touch disappointing but he shrugged it off and pointed to the directory. “Later, we’re running out of time.”

The two teens darted off and made a beeline to the sign Wordy wouldn’t have minded checking out. How the heck did a _marble_ directory work anyway? Surely stores moved in and left, just like the rest of the mall. Somehow, re-carving the marble didn’t sound like a good solution to Wordy. After a minute or so, Alanna raced back, but her brother did not. Instead, Lance headed over to the nearby store, casually examining the door and surrounding area.

“There’s a way in?” Wordy asked Alanna hopefully.

“There is,” Alanna confirmed. “There must have been some trouble in that spot before. Or something like that because the store next door has an entrance too. Lance thinks we might be able to get in and out without having to come back down here.”

Wordy whistled, impressed. Before he could comment, there was a piping snatch of birdsong. Alanna latched onto Wordy’s wrist again and tugged him toward the nearest store. Wordy chuckled, detached her, and waved the girl ahead of him. In short order, they had moved past the store to another small alcove. Lance wasn’t there, he had already moved ahead to ‘scout’ the next store. Wordy followed Alanna as they ‘leap-frogged’ past each store, unnoticed by the shop-keeps or their customers. It took more time than the constable would have preferred, but they managed to make it to the far corridor without being noticed.

Once at the far corridor, the trio trekked upward, leaving the magical mall behind. As they drew closer to the entrance, they came across a fork in the corridor. A sign hung above, marking the stores the two forks led to. Wordy nudged the kids behind him and moved as quietly as he could, wary of any sound reaching the subjects. When they reached the wall, Wordy had occasion to appreciate the logic of letting anyone on the ‘magic’ side of the wall see through it. Eight people sat in the back area of the store. Wordy squinted and spotted their two subjects outside the back area, their attention on the phone and the front door. He backed up and waved the kids back as well. In short order the trio had backtracked to the fork and they headed down the other corridor to the next door store. Wordy forced himself to slow down and tug the teens in front as they went through the wall into the silent store. As he scanned the store for any hiding civilians, Wordy switched his radio back on.

“Sarge, we’ve got a way in.”


	9. Magic and Technology

Greg Parker paced, not caring that his uncharacteristic behavior was alarming Spike. What a mess. First he’d been woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning by a thoroughly unprofessional, small-minded, bureaucratic louse. The kids said louse had brought with him were not a problem. Greg was already delighted by the pair. Sure, they’d brought with them enough issues to sink a small ship, but the SRU Sergeant was confident that the teens would, in time, settle in quite well. Maybe someday, God Willing, he could even introduce them to his son, Dean. Next he’d had to come in and work, since he hadn’t had enough time to get the day off. Not that working with his team was a problem; though Greg would have liked to have had his two new charges to himself for a day or two. Third, two punks had picked today, of all days, to shoplift, panic, and take hostages in the same mall he and his team had picked to shop for a few teenage essentials. And now, not only had Wordy discovered the kids’ secret less than eight hours after Greg himself had discovered the kids’ magic, Wordy and the kids were searching for a way into the subject store via the _magical side of the mall_. Greg checked his watch again as he paced.

“Sarge, stop,” Spike pleaded. “Wordy won’t let the kids get hurt.”

Instead of answering directly, Greg stopped right behind the tech. “How long since Wordy’s last transmission?”

“Nineteen minutes, boss,” Spike reported at once, giving away that he’d been watching the clock just as closely.

Greg sucked in a breath, debating how long he could hold off on calling the subjects again. There was a sudden crackle from the radio and then Wordy’s fierce, “Sarge, we’ve got a way in,” came through.

“A way in?” Ed demanded.

“Nothing about a back way in on the blueprints,” Spike protested.

Greg reined his team in. “Eddie, Spike.” After a beat, he ordered, “Wordy, talk to us.”

“Eight hostages, all in the back area. They’re right by a rear passage that connects the store with the next door store and another area of the mall. We can go in through the back entrance, extract the hostages, then handle the subjects.”

“But,” Greg prompted.

Wordy huffed a sigh. “Anyone going in the back way is going to have to turn both their phones _and_ their radios off. That’s the only way to keep the equipment from overloading due to interference. And, ummm, we’re gonna need the kids along,” he admitted.

“No way,” Ed vetoed at once.

“Eddie,” Greg warned, though he privately agreed with his team leader. Then, softly, he asked Wordy, “We need the kids to keep the passage open?”

“Boss!” Ed protested.

“Yeah, Sarge,” Wordy confirmed, sounding unhappy.

Greg considered several moments, debating the wisdom of using a plan that relied on two teenagers who’d already experienced their fair share of tragedy and danger. Sadly, no other ready solutions presented themselves.

“Lou,” he called.

“Sarge,” the less-lethal specialist acknowledged.

“Meet up with Wordy and the kids. You and Wordy get the hostages out while Ed, Jules, and Spike set up for entry. I’ll give you five minutes, then call the subjects to give you as much cover as I can. As soon as the hostages are safe and clear, let us know.”

“Copy,” Lou replied.

Greg set up his watch timer as Spike got up and headed out, disapproval all but dripping off the constable. The dice had been rolled and the plan, such as it was, was in motion.

* * * * *

Lou stepped into the quiet game themed store next to the subject store. He’d already turned off his phone and he prepared to turn his radio off as he strode to the back of the game store. Wordy waved him over and reported in one last time before turning his own radio off. Lou switched his radio off and joined the trio. To Lou’s surprise, Lance darted off and actually disappeared through a back wall.

“What the heck?” Lou demanded.

“Later,” Wordy replied as Lance reappeared with a brief wave. Alanna latched onto both adults and started forward. Wordy flashed a grin and added, “First couple steps are a doozy, might want to close your eyes.”

As Lou registered the fact that Alanna was going to pull them _through a wall_ , he opted to follow Wordy’s advice and closed his eyes. One eerie, tingling sensation later and he looked around at a well-lit corridor. Wordy took the lead, ignoring, for the moment, Lou’s shock. Almost before Lou knew it, they were at the back way in and he was gaping at the see-through wall.

“Four minutes,” Lance reported.

Wordy shushed him but the boy shook his head. “There’s a silencing ward on the wall; we can talk just fine.”

_Silencing ward?_ Lou wondered, staring at both Wordy and Lance. “What’s going on?” he demanded again.

Wordy winced a little, but Lance replied at once. “My sister and I have magic and this mall has a magical area. It’s warded so non-magicals can’t get in, but since you two are with ‘Lanna and me, we can get you through.”

“ ‘Lanna, brother mine?” Alanna asked, hands on hips.

“I didn’t hear you protest when Mister Spike called you that,” Lance retorted, smirking.

Wordy sighed. “Back to the ‘Mister’ are we?”

Both teens looked up at him, but it was Alanna who replied. “You gave us permission, Wordy, but no one else has.”

Lou bit back a chuckle at the flummoxed look on Wordy’s face. “Sounds fair to me,” he admitted. “I officially give you two permission to call me ‘Lou’.”

The shy smiles from both teens were more than worth it. “Thank you,” Alanna chirped.

“What about the hostages,” Lou asked Lance, frowning. “If Alanna here had to physically pull Wordy and me through…”

Lance made a face. “We’re only going to be able to get two at a time,” he agreed. “Hopefully, the bad guys won’t realize they’re losing captives until we get them all out.”

“Our radios?” Lou questioned Wordy.

“I think we can turn them on inside the store, but we’ll have to turn them off before we come back inside this area,” Wordy replied.

“Copy,” Lou agreed.

The group fell silent, except for Lance calling off the minutes. When he hissed, “Now,” the constables moved through the wards with the kids right behind them.

The subjects were occupied on the phone and the hostages looked up at Wordy’s soft, “This way, folks.”

Lou and Wordy kept the kids behind them the entire time, each man grabbing hold of a hostage and subtly shifting them so the teens could grab hold as well. Then they pulled the hostages through the ersatz wall and left them there with instructions to stay put.

As the two constables had planned, they switched the radios on in the store and switched them off as the teens pulled them and the hostages to safety. The Sarge did a great job keeping the subjects busy and distracted while Wordy and Lou hauled the civilians out of danger.

Everything went like clockwork until the final group. The last woman tripped as Lou guided her toward the wall. When she fell forward, she gave out a little shriek that attracted attention instantly. Wordy and Lou dumped stealth in favor of sweeping the final hostages and the kids up and diving for the wards. Shouts chased them through the wall and Wordy didn’t slow as he yelled at the civilians to “Move it!” Despite carrying Alanna and hauling the last male hostage, Wordy carved his way to the front of the group and pointed the frightened former hostages to the game store.

Lou, at the rear, keyed his radio and called, “We’re out, Sarge. They spotted us, but we’re clear.”

Over the comm, Ed yelled, “Go, go, go!” to his group.

It wasn’t until they’d all reached the game store, that Lou and Wordy realized the radios had _worked_ on the magical side of the mall.

“The radios worked?” Wordy asked, looking a bit dazed.

“Yeah, man, they worked. How come you thought they wouldn’t?”

“Lance said a couple of his school buddies tried to bring tech to his school and it didn’t work. Plus, some of the stuff broke.”

Lou blinked, but nodded. “So maybe not as much…whatever…that makes tech break here?” he theorized.

Wordy shrugged. “Worth a thought, but maybe later.”

Lou surveyed the civilians and winced. Somehow, the thought of explaining magic to all of them was not comforting.

Before he could even try to come up with a half-baked explanation, Lance spoke up. He explained, with the sincerity only a kid could muster, that the mall had _secret_ passages between the stores and that they, the kids and Wordy, had found one between the game store and the subject store. Alanna chimed in with a ridiculous sounding claim that the passages only appeared to those who believed they existed.

As explanations went, it was one of the weakest Lou had ever heard, but for some reason, the civilians bought it, nodding at the kids and promising not to say anything about the ‘secret’ passages. Alanna joined the two constables as they blinked at each other, shocked that the fairy tale had worked.

“We’re kids,” Alanna told them, smiling at the looks the constables gave her. “Adults _expect_ us to come up with all sorts of unbelievable stories.”

“And you two just know that?” Wordy asked, cocking a brow at her.

With a shrug, Alanna replied, “Doesn’t matter which world you’re from. Adults in the magical world expect kids to have more outlandish stories than the _Prophet_ can print.”


	10. Official Secrets Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although Canada replaced its Official Secrets Act with the Security of Information Act in 2001 (created after Sept. 11th), some readers of Harry Potter may be familiar with the fandom plot device that equates the Statute of Secrecy with Britain’s Official Secrets Act. Therefore, for the purposes of this fic, Canada still has an Official Secrets Act to equate to the Statute of Secrecy.

“Okay, what the heck was going on in there?” Mister Ed demanded of Wordy as soon as the group had returned to headquarters. Although everyone was in the briefing room, no one was sitting at the table and Uncle Greg had taken the precaution of closing the room’s steel door once all were inside.

Lance and Alanna cringed from their position by their uncle. He’d wrapped them both in a hug as soon as he shut the door. Though both teens were still a touch uncertain about their new life, they were pleased at both the care their uncle and his team had shown them and the trust Wordy had given them in the crisis.

Accordingly, they both tried to speak up in Wordy’s defense. Sadly, as they both spoke at the same time, no one understood them and Uncle Greg had to hush them.

Instead of letting either speak, Uncle Greg looked at Wordy. “Start at the beginning, Wordy,” he requested.

Wordy gave both teens an apologetic look. “Sarge, do you know about their parents being murdered?” he asked.

Team One gasped in shock. Uncle Greg sighed. “Yes, Wordy, I knew the kids believe their parents were murdered. To the best of my understanding, the investigation is still ongoing.”

“Believe, nothing,” Alanna protested.

Lance overrode her with, “We were there, Uncle Greg.”

“You were there?” Mister Spike asked, eyes wide.

Alanna nodded, clenching her fists. “Those monsters cut us off, kept us from getting away. If Mindy hadn’t been there…”

“Who’s Mindy?” Miss Jules asked.

Lance, though, shook his head. “We can tell you later,” he promised. “Right now, though, just the basics. I’m pretty sure the Aurors will figure out what ‘Lanna and I did.”

Alanna grimaced and nodded agreement. “ _Lancelot_ ,” she cast him an evil look for using Mister Spike’s nickname for her, “is right. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone other than Uncle Greg about our magic.”

“ _Magic_?” Mister Spike echoed, looking bemused. “Card tricks? Pulling a rabbit out of a hat? What’s so secret about that?”

Lou shot him down with a wry, “How about pulling me and Wordy through what looked like a solid wall?”

“Or making an indoor mall look like an outdoor mall, right down to sunshine and clouds,” Wordy added with a grin at the looks they were getting.

“Wait, really?” Miss Jules asked, eyes wide, but clearly still skeptical.

Then Uncle Greg added _his_ two cents. “How about two suitcases the size of a paperback growing to the height and size of a small coffee table?”

There was silence for several long seconds. Mister Spike finally broke it, asking timidly, “You aren’t joking, are you, Boss?”

“No, Spike, I’m not,” Uncle Greg confirmed. “Before this morning, I would have agreed with you about magic. Nothing more than fancy sleight-of-hand tricks. Not anymore.” He turned to the kids, frowning. “What, exactly, are you two worried about?”

“The Statute of Secrecy,” Alanna explained, looking miserable. “Only Mu…non-magicals with magical relatives are allowed to know about magic.”

“If anyone other than those relatives find out about magic,” Lance continued, looking equally unhappy, “Aurors and Obliviators make sure they…don’t remember.”

Alarm ran around the room. “You mean, they’d take away our _memories_?” Wordy asked, his face turning pale at the thought. The rest of the group looked torn between outrage and horror. When both teens nodded, Team One exchanged grim looks.

Miss Jules was the one who thought of another complication. “Lance, Alanna,” she queried, tone and face tentative. “What about you two? Would you get in trouble for telling us?”

“Alanna wouldn’t,” Lance said flatly.

“Lance!” Alanna objected.

“No, sis, I’m the one who told, not you.”

“I agreed!”

Lance shook his head, hair flying from the force of his vehemence. “I’m the oldest, ‘Lanna, and I’m saying I’ll take the blame.”

Before Alanna could argue more, there was a noise from the door and it began to slide open. Both teens spotted the new arrivals from their slightly lower vantage point and darted between Team One and the door. Two wands all but materialized in the kids’ hands and they aimed the wands at the men who stepped through the door. The robes both men wore were reminiscent of old-style trenchcoats and sported silver badges pinned to their left chests. If Team One had possessed any doubt about whether the newcomers were wizards, it was dispelled by the wands the men were aiming at the children.

* * * * *

The stand-off was almost comical, with two kids on one side, protecting a group of SRU cops, and two full-grown wizards on the other side. Greg Parker stepped forward, planning to pull Lance back, but the teen merely sidestepped, keeping himself between Greg and the new arrivals.

“Can we help you?” Jules asked, polite despite the wands pointing at the kids.

The older Auror, a silver-haired man as tall as Wordy, inclined his head. “I am Auror Wilkins and this is my partner Auror Anderson. We’ve had a report that these two children have breached the Statute of Secrecy.”

“To save lives,” Alanna protested at once.

“ ‘Lanna,” Lance hissed. He gave Auror Wilkins a formal half-bow. “My sister did nothing wrong; I accept full responsibility for my decision to inform my cousin’s Auror team of magic.”

After a beat, Auror Wilkins returned the half-bow with a dip of his head. “Why?” he inquired, his expression and words calm.

Auror Anderson gave a sputter of outrage. “Why? Who cares why some little British brat broke our laws. Let’s just _Obliviate_ the Muggles, arrest the brat, and be done with it.”

“Auror Anderson! If you cannot show respect for one of the oldest magical families, you may leave,” Wilkins growled. “The ‘little British brat’ is heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Calvin.”

Anderson’s eyes widened and he backed off, actually lowering his wand. “I-I beg pardon Heir Calvin,” he stuttered.

Lance ignored the apology, focusing instead on Wilkins. “You asked ‘why’, Auror Wilkins. My sister is correct; I acted as I did to help these non-magical Aurors save the lives of several people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even the criminals who started the entire chain of events were arrested instead of killed. So I guess you could say I helped save their lives too.” Then the boy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you intend, Auror Wilkins? Will you do as your partner suggested and arrest me? Or do you intend to let me off, simply because of who my family is?” The last sentence was nearly spat out, as Lance made clear his disgust for the idea of skating on his family’s political power.

Team One read the elder Auror’s long pause as easily as the kids did. Greg cleared his throat and stepped in, his negotiator mask dropping into place as he spoke. “Gentlemen, perhaps we could all relax a bit and take this slower? The kids,” he gave both teens a stern look, “will put down their wands. The two of you,” he gave the Aurors an equally stern look, “will also put down your wands and then we can discuss the events of this afternoon. While I admit that the children acted impulsively today, I can’t fault their motive or the results.”

Wilkins lowered his wand, casting a warning look at Anderson; who kept his own wand down and ducked his head a touch. “Very well, sir, I suppose it will do no harm.”

Greg gave both men a smile and stepped past both them and his nephew to tap a few commands into the door controls. The barrier dropped once more, granting the discussion privacy. Team One kept to the side of the table closest to the windows, eyeing the Aurors with suspicion. Once Greg had rejoined his team on ‘their’ side of the table, he gestured to Wilkins to begin. Wilkins in his turn gestured to Anderson, the latter pulled out a quill and parchment as he sat at the briefing room table. Then the senior Auror began to interview Team One; quizzing them on the exact circumstances and the chain of events. Though the team was unhappy, they answered the pointed questions and, for the most part, ignored the subtle insults Wilkins inserted into almost every sentence. Alanna and Lance were the last to be interviewed; the difference in _their_ interviews was marked. There was none of Wilkins’ scorn and mocking toward Team One in the kids’ interviews. Instead, he was very respectful, almost deferential toward the pair.

When Lance’s interview was done, Auror Wilkins took the notes Anderson offered, shuffling through them for several moments. With a near bow in Lance’s direction he began, “While the Statute of Secrecy does not explicitly allow for the self-defense of others, I believe we can make this circumstance fit the self-defense exceptions of the Statute. As the eight other Muggles involved in this situation have been given a suitable cover story, I will leave them as they are. However,” he turned toward Greg, “to permit your team to retain knowledge of the magical world is something I cannot do.”

“And I cannot permit you to harm them,” Lance snapped. He would have pushed himself up but Wordy, at a quick signal from Greg, kept the boy in his seat.

“I confess, I agree with my nephew. Allowing you and your associate free rein with my team is unacceptable,” Greg said flatly. “I may have an idea but first I have a question, Auror Wilkins.”

“And that is?” Wilkins queried.

“What do you think of how my team handled today’s events? Your honest opinion, please, with none of the prejudice you’ve displayed toward my people thus far.”

It was, ironically, Anderson who replied first. “Five Muggles who’d never encountered the magical world before using it to their advantage? Bloody impressive, if you ask me.” He cringed in his seat at Wilkins’ glare.

“Six,” Spike corrected with a grin. “Sarge only met the kids today.”

“And what’s with the word ‘Muggles’, man?” Lou asked. “Kinda sounds like an insult.”

“Well,” Wilkins remarked with a sneer. “It’s not as if you lot have magic.”

Wordy rolled his eyes and fired right back with, “And it’s not as if you guys have technology. What exactly does us not having magic have to do with anything?”

Spike all but pricked his ears at Wordy’s retort. “Wordy, they don’t use technology?”

“Nope,” Wordy confirmed. “That’s why I had to turn my radio and phone off. Otherwise the magical part of the mall would have trashed ‘em.”

“Phone maybe,” Lou observed. “Radio might have made it; they survived going through that wall thing right there at the end.”

Spike waved a hand. “No, no, you’re missing the point. We have tech, they have magic.” He beamed but his face fell a little at the blank looks. With a touch of frustration, he went straight for the punch line. “Technologicals. More accurate and less insulting than ‘Muggles’.”

Lou smirked as the light dawned. “You just want to use ‘techies’ for short,” he accused.

“Well, whatever works,” Spike feebly deflected, though his blush and head duck gave him away.

Wilkins stared as Lou pounced on Spike and started a wrangling session. He tore his gaze away and arched a questioning brow at Greg. “Although Anderson is…enthusiastic…I confess his impressions largely match my own. What is your point?”

Greg smiled, though his eyes held a predatory gleam. “What if you allowed myself and my team to…consult…from time to time on similar incidents in the magical world or occasions when a criminal from your side of the fence hides out on _our_ side of the fence. Would an arrangement like that allow my team to _legally_ retain their knowledge of magic?”

The wrangling stopped as Team One stared at their Sergeant, who gave them a slightly apologetic look. The team exchanged looks, nods, and shrugs as they ‘discussed’ the idea amongst themselves. When they were done, they looked to Ed Lane. Ed met Greg’s gaze and nodded once. The team would back him, as Greg had known they would.

Wilkins was oblivious to the exchanges as he mulled the proposal over. On the one hand, permitting five _Muggles_ to retain knowledge of the magical world was anathema to him; on the other, he would certainly be respected for brokering such an agreement, smoothing relations with Muggle law enforcement, _and_ keeping a powerful family heir and his sister happy. In the end, it was an easy decision for the self-absorbed, self-important Auror.

“Auror Parker, I am willing to agree to your proposal with three conditions. First, your team will sign the Official Secrets Act, agreeing to keep the magical world secret. Second, any members of your team not present here today will require my office’s authorization before they can be informed of the magical world. Third, your team will abide by _our_ laws and operational procedures.”

“ _Sergeant_ Parker, not Auror,” Ed corrected, as he put his two cents in. “Boss, I don’t know about that third condition…”

“Ed,” Greg reproved. He met Wilkins’ gaze. “Constable Lane, I believe, was about to make the point that our procedures are very likely to conflict with your procedures. I agree with his point; however, I believe we can work with your three conditions.” Sergeant Parker’s expression hardened. “If, at some point, a decision has to be made between following your procedures or saving lives, my team _will_ choose to save lives.”

For almost a minute, the two men faced off. Then Wilkins offered a tiny smile. “Then we have an accord, Sergeant Parker.”

* * * * *

Greg sighed, running a hand over his head. He never had gotten the opportunity to talk to his landlord. Wordy and Ed had cornered him before heading to the locker rooms and talked him into a team night out at a local pizza parlor; citing the fact that Greg didn’t have much at home to feed the kids. So dinner was taken care of and the kids could wear their new clothes tomorrow. It would take longer to pack his apartment and talk his landlord into letting him move to a larger place but he’d figure something out.

He hiked a brow as Commander Holleran approached, a wry grin on his face and Team One trailing in his wake. “Sir?” he inquired.

Holleran gave him a fox-like smile. “Sergeant Parker, when Constable Scarlatti reported in this afternoon, I realized you would be unable to speak with your landlord as you’d planned. I just finished speaking with him and he’s agreed to roll your lease over to a new apartment large enough for you and the kids. Your team has volunteered to help you pack and move this weekend and Constable Wordsworth has offered your _nipotes_ his family’s guest room in the meantime.”

Greg gaped at his superior and a blushing Wordy. Wordy coughed and explained. “I called Shelley and told her about your _nipotes_. She wants to meet them and introduce them to the girls; practically insisted on it actually.” The big man ducked his head and added, “We don’t have any other guest rooms but you can use the couch if you want.”

Greg recovered enough to smile. “Thank you, Commander. I appreciate it.” He turned toward his team. “And thank _you_ for rolling with everything that happened today. Wordy,” he waited for the man to look up and winked. “As Shelley _insists_ on meeting _mio nipotes_ , I accept your kind invitation to use your couch until we can move into the new place.”

Wordy chuckled. “No problem, Sarge.” He turned, grinning at the kids. “Who’s up for pizza?”

 

_~ A principio ad finem_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my latest humble offering to the Flashpoint fandom. 'A Principio Ad Finem' means 'The End of the Beginning', which indeed, this is. For those of you enjoying this story, please come back next Friday as I post the prologue and first chapter of my next story: Nobody Said Anything About Magic.
> 
> Have a great week all, God Bless, Keep the Peace, and Happy Reading!


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